The Last Stand
by Mila34
Summary: Forces of the Solarian Republic are trapped on a world infested by Tyranids with no chance of escape. One shot. My first fic.


The rain beat down heavily as the crack of lasfire whipped through the night. There was a glint of silver as blades were buried deep within the bodies of termagants, purple ichor spraying out as the swords were wrenched free.

Commander Harker emptied the charge of his laspistol into the back of a termagant's head, before spinning around and slicing the neck of another with his adamantium blade and lopping its head clean off. Sharp teeth came rushing towards him, but rebounded off the powerful displacement field around him. His boot caught the termagant on the side of the head, and he slammed the butt of his pistol down on the fallen creature like a madman, hitting it four times on the skull.

The glow of the Chosen Corp's psychic powers permeated the air around him, and before he knew it the three broods surrounding him and his outnumbered legionnaires were running away, their connection to the hive mind severed and animal instinct kicking in.

The commander nodded his thanks to the five Chosen behind him, before yelling to the rest of his force to form up again. The Tyranids were not defeated yet by any means. He trudged back to his command tent, leaving the rest of his men to fire shots into the back of the fleeing creatures.

The mud squelched underfoot as he walked, his feet sinking into puddles almost a foot deep. He took off his helmet and pushed his brown hair back, out of his eyes. He was only about twenty five, quite young for a centurion of the Solarian Republic. Already he and the Saviours had proved themsleves on the battlefield for over eight years, fighting in war zones all across the eastern rim, against Tyranids, Orks, Chaos Marines and Cultists, even clashing with the Eldar. Speaking of which….

The Farseer was striding across the small circle of land they had thus far managed to hold. Her potent Singing Spear was clutched in her grasp, and her Rune Armour glittered, even with the ever present rain clouds blocking the sun.

"Farseer." He nodded, trying to show the slightest bit of courtesy. He received none in return.

"Human, we must talk." That said, she stalked off towards Commander Harker's tent. Swinging aside the tent flap, she and marched in without even asking permission. Harker was about to say something when he checked himself. The Eldar were an arrogant and self serving race. He needed their help in this battle, if they were to complete their mission.

The Farseer was already seated, her slim, armour clad form uncomfortable in a rough, plastic chair. Commander Harker also took a seat, and the powerful witch began without preamble.

"My forces have taken heavy losses in the last attack. One more, then we shall fall. Though their ships were destroyed, we have no reserves, while their vile abilities allow them to make more creatures with each passing attack." Her tone softened considerably, and she took off her helmet as she spoke. "We cannot win John." Her bright eyes sparkled, and she looked him directly in the eyes.

"I know Laeresh. But we don't have to. Our mission was to document the new abilities Lictors have been demonstrating, and we have almost completed it. With the push of a button the entire data file will be sent underground. It will survive the bombardment from our ships in space, and be recovered later." She drew in a breath to speak, but he cut her off quickly.

"This may save billions of lives in the future. The Lictor-human hybrids we have seen here on Lorenth mean that the Tyranids are changing their tactics in a big way. What's to stop them engineering Hive Tyrants to do the same, even Carnifexes. The genetic codes on this disc could allow Solarian agents to detect any Tyranid hybrids on planets throughout the Imperium, and exterminate them before they can spread."

"My people's spirit stones…" Laeresh stopped herself before revealing a secret of the Eldar, but Harker just motioned for her to continue.

"I've been briefed about the spirit stones, and even why you need them. The fleet has been ordered to use napalm- fire bombs." He corrected himself. "The flames will not affect the stones, and your people can collect them later. You will not be taken by the darkness." He assured her, before standing up and extending a hand towards her.

She looked at the proffered hand before her blankly, but then caught on and slowly shook it. He could feel the tingling of raw psychic power in his arm and they slowly shook, but he dared it and didn't break his grip.

"I have misjudged you Commander. I see now that you are an honourable man." The Farseer said slowly, as disbelieving what she was saying.

"You too Laeresh. A pity these insights come six days too late, or might better have known each other now." They both turned to leave, but the graceful alien glanced sideways at the centurion.

"Do you not fear that your soul shall be forever consumed in the Warp? Do you not fear death?" She asked him, her voice curious. He could feel a little push at his mind, and knew it was the psychic powers of the Farseer willing him to answer.

"I do not fear death, nor the beasts of the Warp. My soul shall return to Solaria, and there it shall remain until the Red Dawn." A smile tugged at the corner of her mind as she tried to make him elaborate, but the Mind Seal placed in the displacement field would stop the psychic influences of anything.

"Everyone needs their secrets Laeresh. You have yours, and we have the Red Dawn." The smile broke onto his face, he couldn't stop it any longer.

"You are a singular man John Harker. You name shall be remembered, in the halls of Iyanden." She smiled also, a sight which few humans have ever witnessed. They both nodded professionally, before each returned to their own lines.

Harker looked out on the ranks of legionnaires in front of him, noting their ragged clothes and numerous wounds. Many had their carapace armour missing a shoulder pad or helmet, but still they stood proudly in the freezing rain. He could hear the snarls and wild cries of the approaching Tyranids behind him, but right now he couldn't care less.

"Men. I have served in this battlegroup for almost eight years now. We have bled to almost every major threat to mankind in the galaxy, but we have bled together. Comrades have fallen to the green skins, the weapons of the Silver Host have ripped our armour apart, but we have never given up. I will not lie to you. We have no chance of survival. This area is to be subjected to flames for three days in less than ten minutes, and there are many more Tyranids on this planet than just here." Harker looked around at his men, the glorious banner of the Solarian Armed Forces held high. The chatter of the Tyranids was close now. They couldn't be more than thirty metres away.

"Once, we numbered in our thousands. Not even an entire chapter of the Space Marines could defeat us. We were warriors then, and we are warriors now. Our names may fade away in time, but our actions shall be felt for thousands of years." He pressed down the button, and sent the data file plummeting down into the ground. A simple signal was sent up to the waiting Dreadnought in space. "We may die, the names of The Saviours may never be spoken on the lips of man again, but our souls shall live on, and when the final battle for the galaxy comes, we shall rise, and once again march against our enemies." Throwing the controller to the ground, he drew his Adamantium blade and pointed it at the sky.

"For honour!"" He yelled. "For mankind!" The reply was shouted back at him by the forty legionnaires left.

"**AND FOR** **THE RED DAWN!**" As one they charged, Centurion John Harker of the 2nd Regiment of Solarian Armed Forces turned, and in the same motion caught a genestealer that was poised to take his head off. His men fired off into the crowded pack of Tyranids, no individual brood could be seen at all.

The great shutters on the side of the long spaceship opened, and a swarm of bombers poured out of them. The huge cannons swivelled to point at a small speck of land down below, and clicked into place as they found their targets.

The force blades of the Chosen were mere blurs, the skill they wielded them with was so great. They sent out bursts of Witchfire, and used their powers to sense what would happen next, but they could not stand for ever. They were slowly but surely dragged down under a wave of solid chitin, their force swords dealing death to the last.

Harker staggered back as a massive Broodlord caught him in the stomach with its rending claws, blood immediately welled up, and it poised to finish him, scything talons held up. The rest of his men were being overrun. They could not stand against the Great Devourer.

And then the skies themselves were filled with fire.


End file.
